


hunt me down and teach me how to live

by monbebyx



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AU where they are all from different descent with different abilities, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Eventual Fluff, Hybrid Min Yoongi | Suga, Hybrid Park Jimin, Hybrids, M/M, basilisk jimin, feral yoongi, ok these tags will be messy sorry in advance, they are hybrids but at the same time not really?, venomous jimin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:23:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monbebyx/pseuds/monbebyx
Summary: “It’s weird…” The boy began before he let his forked tongue sample the air in front of him, making him look every part the snake that he was. “I can’t taste your pheromones properly. What are you?”“I’m nothing.”“Everyone is something, love.” The pet name sent a shiver down his spine. It sounded so seductive yet so ominous, like a knife to his willing throat; a promise of something more to come. “Who do you belong to?”





	hunt me down and teach me how to live

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I should stop writing new stories and keep on the ones I already started, but I'm having a lot of fun writing this - so here we are. I hope you guys will enjoy it!

A sound. It was weak, but it was definitely there. He perked up his ears to listen for more, but the wind was the only one who answered. He sat huddled inside his makeshift hide-out for a while longer, his ears and nose trained on his surroundings. The wait was always the toughest part. The uncertainty of not knowing if you should run or stay; when to run and when to stay. The pine smell prickled his nose as it hugged him from all sides and the small twigs stung his back like vicious thorns, but he didn’t dare move. A bird chirped over him while ruffling its plumage, it’s feathers moving gracefully in the breeze, singing like it hadn’t a care in the world. It looked peaceful where it sat perched among the reddened leaves, as if it was totally unaware of the situation happening right underneath it. But he knew the bird sensed everything. His keen eyes saw the small, unsettling moves of its legs and how it perched its head just a little bit higher. Suddenly, it flew — and so did he.

He ran as fast as he could. There was no time to think, he only knew he had to get away—now. With his back hunched, keeping his form as close to the ground as possible, he opted for a safe route, one he knew like the back of his hand. His legs begged him to stop and his chest heaved at the strain because his lungs had burned out many days ago. _Just a little further._ The adrenaline rushed through his veins and he could almost feel it course through him as it fuelled his legs to keep on running. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth made his stomach churn. There was one too many injuries on his body at this point and he was sure an infection was brewing in one of them, but even though that could be a death sentence, he didn’t have the luxury to mind right now. Gracefully moving along the terrain, he headed towards a familiar clearing. Luckily, his ancestry made his steps close to inaudible and it was at these times that he prayed to the Goddess that he was gifted with stealth. His surroundings shifted from that of a forest to a field, the grass shooting high in the air, stretching seemingly endlessly towards the atmosphere. The skies seemed friendlier here, but he had learned not to trust his environment; It was as deceiving as the winters were long and it morphed itself into what it thought you wanted depending on its own stance. It usually kept a neutral position, but it had deeper connections to some tribes more than others, and it was loyal to its own kin. If the forest wanted you dead, you’d be dead.

Stopping just shy of the clearing, he crouched down, his back against a tall tree. The grass shielded him from view while the open space gave him the overview he needed to feel a little more at ease. If someone approached him from the clearing, he would see them. If someone had followed him, he would see them. A shaky breath escaped him then, and he wondered if he would ever get used to this. He couldn’t remember anything else, any other life than this, but his heart always yearned for somethings else—something more fulfilling and safe. But life is what it is and he was lucky he was even alive. _That can change if you aren’t careful,_ a voice whispered at the back of his mind. There was a slight movement - a mouse rushing over the uneven ground, maneuvering its way through the lofty grass -, and he was reminded to keep his focus on the surroundings, observing every single movement; the towering grass swaying softly in the wind, his eyes snapping to the three birds flying across the sky in the distance before moving carefully over the treetops. Nothing. _For now,_ the voice whispered again. _They always come back_. He knew they did.

Neither his eyes or ears detected any threats, so without leaving his crouching position, he let his head loll back against the tree, giving himself the rare treat of actually relaxing for a second. It was heaven and hell all at once. He could feel his muscles relax, but with the calm came the opportunity to feel the state of his body; the aching of his every joints, the sting of every wound and scratch on his body, the bitter copper taste in his mouth and how the blood pounded ruthlessly beneath his temples. Maybe he should actually tend to some of his injuries soon. The heaviness of his eyelids voted no, but he needed to push himself up if he wanted to avoid infections. With a groan, he rose to his full height after warily checking if there was someone nearby.

The walk to the river wasn’t long. The forest had grown a few more trees, making it a little harder to recognize the path, but he had been here so many times before that he knew when the forest tried to trick him. His sharp eyes always noticed the familiar bumps in the ground, the ant hill and the twist of the dead branch hanging off of the tallest tree. The river was well hidden - only the true animals of the area knew where it was located - but after living here for so long, he knew too. It had been a true blessing to have found it that time. He had been running, yet again, trying to seek refuge inside the densest parts of the forest. The territory hadn’t been so familiar to him then, so he had fumbled blindly, trying to find the location with the most hiding places. He could remember the panic he had felt that time—they had been close, oh-so-close, to catching him then, but the river had saved him. One wrong step had been made, one wrong turn, and he had stumbled face first into the undeterred waters. For a second he thought he was going to drown, for he detested water, but his hands had managed to grab onto a sharp rock that helped him keep his head over the surface. The rough expanse of the rock had cut into his hands like glass shards, but his survival instincts were so strong he hadn’t felt it until he got out of the water. The river was deep, but narrow, and while struggling to stay afloat, his eyes had detected a larger rock on his left side, hiding a hollow cave underneath the elevated ground. With his last ounce of energy, he had slung himself towards the rock before crawling into the dry space. It was a small space, but it was shielded from view and he could hear the footsteps arrive straight overhead, making it extremely advantageous. He had laid down, curling in on himself in the tight space, while he listened and waited for his chasers to leave. They probably wouldn’t had found him there either way, but he never knew - they were good hunters after all. Without breathing, he listened to the soft steps on the ground above him, and his own loud heartbeat drowning them out. The wait had always been the toughest part.

The water was ice cold as he dipped his legs into the roaring stream. He had learned early on that moving water was the best way to clean his wounds. The bite of the frigid water running over and into his every cut and crease was always hard to sustain, especially for one with a lineage that highly preferred warm and dry climates, but it needed to be done. He leaned back, feeling the rough forest dirt under his palms and letting his head roll back for a second before he switched position and let his arms fall into the freezing water. He felt cold but refreshed when he deemed himself done. A twitch of his eyes and he headed towards a tree before kneeling down to pluck a few golden flowers with a smell that reminded him of home. He never knew its name, but he had learned that the bright yellow flower helped reduce inflammation in his wounds, as well as helping them heal quickly. Rubbing them on his skin, leaving yellow trails on his pale complexion, he always imagined he could feel his cuts start to close. After a few days, the yellow marks would fade and after a few days more, so would his wounds. Sometimes they left ugly scars on his smooth skin, but he couldn’t care less—he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

He stared at his marred skin for a few seconds, letting his mind wander to a place where it raced with thoughts he couldn’t hear. It was quite peaceful to feel his mind work without needing to know what it worked on. He stared quietly into nothingness, feeling his body relax a little - the knots in his shoulders letting its tight grip go for a slight moment. His mind felt like a blank piece of canvas and all he could do was to stare at it, content with its white surface. He stayed in that headspace, not noticing how the branches moved over him and how a soft shadow fell over his form—

“Hey,”

He snapped his head up towards the sound, only to see a boy hanging his torso out from the tree crown above him, his chin casually leaning on the palm of his hand. _Run_. But there was nowhere to run. He tripped while trying to get up on his feet, making him crash into a rugged tree trunk nearby. His hands held onto it like a lifeline as he could hear the boy fall to the ground with a thump. Shoving his face into the harsh bark, in a pathetic attempt to become smaller, or was it to ground himself, he cursed himself for letting his guard down. How could he not have noticed a goddamn person in that tree? He was good at hiding, but the Goddess knew he was completely useless at combat. The stranger walked with confident steps towards the other, looming over him from a few meters away. His whole body felt like it was on fire, the feeling of being cornered overpowering him, making him fear for his life. He was sure that this… this was it. Every limb was numb with the realization and he could feel his survival instinct kick in as the seconds passed, his body readying itself to fight back if needed be. At the same time as his body prepared itself, there was a single sentence that repeated itself inside his mind.

Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. _Please don’t hurt me_.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

His body flinched at the stranger’s voice. It was smooth and sounded friendly, but as with everything else, he didn’t trust it. Voices could mislead you. His eyes focused on an ant running over the bark of the tree, watching it in perfect detail due to the closeness.

“You look like shit.”

The ant ran under a small gap in the husk, disappearing from view before it reappeared with a tiny leaf in its grasp. It looked so effortlessly, but he knew it was probably a massive strain on the little creature’s body. Focused, he kept on watching the insect running along while keeping his attention directed at the person hovering nearby. It had been so long since he had been in such close proximity to another human and the only thing he felt was complete and utter horror. His nose didn’t pick up the scent of his own kin, so he felt a little more at ease, but he could never be sure of other’s intention. His kind was never safe, not even from foreign lineages. This boy, however, smelled sickly sweet to the point of nauseating; like a concentrated mix between jasmine and honey. Crinkling his nose, he tried to keep his mind, eyes and ears focused while his nose was totally blocked by the sickening fragrance. The other didn’t say anything more, he just stood a few metres from him, probably watching him pathetically shelter himself against the tree in fear. Then he gathered the courage he needed to turn his head and peek at the stranger from underneath his flaming bangs. His body was lithe but muscular, his broad chest accentuating that thought, while the way he held himself presented him to be a part of a proud lineage. His cheeks were round, his lips pink and feminine while his eyes—

“Goddess, you’re a basilisk!” He shrieked as he snapped his head away from the sharp, snake-like eyes staring right through him. “Don’t fucking look at me!”

The stranger’s eyes were a brilliant green with a pair of small, dark pupils which followed his every move with great interest. His features were so delicate, but his eyes was oh-so sharp; from the emerald colour, the intensity of his focus and even their almond shape. They had pierced straight through him, making his blood freeze in their veins.

“It’s not like my eyes will make you drop dead, you know.” The basilisk said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

He knew that, but even so, those eyes were dangerous and he wouldn’t take any risks - especially after being so careless that he got himself cornered. “You just need them to paralyze me before killing me, right?” He hissed lowly, more to himself than the stranger.

The other boy let out a seemingly genuine gasp at that. “Wait, are you from the last century? Who even _does_ that anymore?”

“Your kin does!”

“No, we don’t…” The basilisk responded calmly. “Ok, some of us does,” he corrected himself, “but those are the rogues. Everyone has feral rogues.” He dragged out the last two words in a curious manner, and the innuendo of the way he had pronounced them made the trapped boy’s stomach churn as they hit a little too close to home.

“I’m not a rogue!” He complained, his words more like a whine than anything else.

The basilisk shrugged his shoulders and let his eyes briefly fleet to something beside him. “You sure seem like it.” He wanted to argue against it, because he hated the thought of someone thinking he was a rogue—a feral runaway. Turning his head, his mouth ready to counter the previous ill-spoken words, he was cut off before he got the chance to speak.

“It’s weird…” The boy began before he let his forked tongue sample the air in front of him, making him look every part the snake that he was. “I can’t taste your pheromones properly. What are you?”

“I’m nothing.”

“Everyone is something, love.” The pet name sent a shiver down his spine. It sounded so seductive yet so ominous, like a knife to his willing throat; a promise of something more to come. “Who do you belong to?”

The basilisk moved forward a little to get a closer look at the anxious boy. Looking down, he didn’t get a moment to flinch before the kneeling boy lashed out, trying to lodge a small knife into the flesh of the other.

“That’s none of your business! Leave me alone!” He hissed.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Taking a step back to increase the distance between them, the basilisk threw his arms up in surrender. “That was so uncalled for. I said I wouldn’t hurt you, all right?”

The redhead snarled at him in response, his face contouring with anger. “I’m supposed to trust a _fucking basilisk_?”

“Ouch…” He clutched his hand over his heart, feigning hurt, “—but whatever you say, love.” Another shiver. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. But… If you suddenly change your mind, and if you want some food —it sure looks like you do— then you can come with me.”

His stomach rumbled loudly at the bare mentions of food. There had been such a long time since he had eaten properly, and his tired body really started to show signs of malnutrition; It bruised easily, his skin was dry and itchy and he was in a constant state of exhaustion. However, he stayed curled up against the tree, waiting for the stranger to walk away. The boy wasn’t of the same lineage as him, so he felt quite relieved even though he knew better than to let himself trust, especially when it came to a strange basilisk. They were notorious for their skills of manipulation, seduction and the fact that they preyed on everything they could get their hands on. He had never met one, but during the few years he lived with his own kind, he was told stories of their extravagant beauty and how they used it to lure people in, making them believe in every polished lie of their tongue, just like a modern day siren. They slithered their way under your skin, blinding you with their overall appearance so that you wouldn’t notice their serpent eyes, before they poisoned you with their venom and preying on your paralyzed body. Only the susceptible - the vulnerable - would fall for the temptation in their eyes, so it was crucial for him not to trust a single word the stranger said. But as he felt his stomach twinge at the thought of actual food, he followed the blonde boy - keeping a safe distance by using his sharp eyes to keep track of the increasingly silhouette, staying behind the trees and using the grass as cover. There was no doubt about the fact that the basilisk was aware of his presence, but he didn’t seem to mind. He followed for a while, trailing behind as the sun fell behind the horizon, painting the skies a deep red.

The boy stopped outside a simple and dark cabin. He glanced over his shoulder, and the tiny curl of his lips didn’t go unnoticed by the one trailing behind him, even through the dark shadows shrouding his face. Stepping forward, he reached for the door and swung it open before disappearing inside. The eerie silence that followed was only interrupted by the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional nocturnal bird. The minutes passed by but there was no movement, no indication that the other would come back outside. Shielding himself from view, he warily stepped closer to the unfamiliar cabin. He wasn’t sure how many seconds, minutes or hours passed, but some time after the coral skies had turned to blackness, the boy returned outside with a lit torch in hand. The flame cast light on its creator’s face, softly showing off his elegant features but also illuminating his louring, sharp eyes. There was no mistaking the serpent-like eyes when he got to see them so clearly. The boy continued to walk away from his cabin, stopping only when he arrived by what seemed like a well-used fireplace. Stones had been used to elevate the fire, lifting it off the ground to reduce the risk of forest fires, while a cooking pot hung from a metal construction stemming from the arranged stones. He watched as the basilisk let his torch gently touch the middle of the stone construction, letting the fire roar to life and casting long shadows all around it. They both marvelled in the atmosphere before the stranger turned back to his cabin, placing the still flaming torch beside the door. Returning, he held a variety of food in his arms - everything from bread to vegetables and fruit. He sat down at the bench on one side of the fireplace before putting the food down on the ground beside him, grabbing something indistinguishable from the pile to throw into the scorching pot. The smell was heaven and hell all at once. It was divine - unfamiliar but sweet, clinging to the silenced air. One of the boys hadn’t been able to smell anything other than fresh fruits and raw meat for years, and so he relished in the feeling. His nose twitched involuntarily, his senses running wild as he struggled to keep his distance from the strange boy and his fire and his food.

The basilisk had been completely still. He just sat there, staring into the dancing fire. A pale arm reached down to pick up another piece of food.

“You never told me your name.”

His velvety voice broke the nightly silence, sending a shiver down the other’s spine. There was no response. The fire tried its hardest to ease the tension by making its presence known. It danced and played with the light and shadows of the woods, swaddling the strange basilisk boy in a soft light; the sparks going off like fireworks.

“Mine is Jimin, and as you already know, I’m from basilisk descent.”

He broke off a piece of the food at that, tossing it in the redhead’s general direction. It bounced on the ground a few times, reminding him of a clumsy, young mouse, before it landed just within his grasp. Picking up the food, which he was sure was bread, he forcefully stuffed it into his mouth without a second thought. He could hear the other boy scoff without judgement, but he had no shame and the food tasted like nothing he had tasted before. The buttery feel on his tongue stayed way too short, but he revelled in the aftertaste before finally giving the blonde basilisk an answer.

“I’m Yoongi,” he said, licking his lips to chase the last fragment of butter. The basilisk turned his head towards him, the green eyes shining impossibly under the control of the flames. It was like he was waiting for something else. Even so, he spoke up. “Ok, Yoongi,” he probably figured he wouldn’t be able to satisfy his curiosity today, ”nice to meet you.”

After giving his name, Yoongi couldn’t focus on anything else than the bread lodged in the other’s hands. Long, delicate fingers curled around it, fiddling slightly, and he almost couldn’t keep himself from rushing over and steal it. His own hands dug harshly into the rough ground. He could feel his instincts struggling just below the surface, but it would be foolish to let them go now, even though he could probably fight the basilisk. So he sat still, waiting. The wait had never come naturally to Yoongi; he was restless, impulsive and he acted largely on intuition. His whole body told him to run, because this was dangerous and he was being unwise, but at the same time it fought to stay. This much food wasn’t easy to come by.

Another piece of bread. And then another. Then two more. This time, however, he only stared at the food, his pupils blown wide. Yoongi was sceptical due to the poisonous nature of the basilisk. He could be paralyzed if he had tampered with the food, but the first bite hadn’t stunned him - yet, the voice chimed in. He had been on a lucky streak this whole day, so he thought to try and stretch it out just a little bit further. After his inner turmoils washed away, his eyes not wavering from the four pieces of food lying in the dirt, he grabbed them, not even caring to dust them off, before shoving them too into his mouth. The curious look of the other boy, Jimin, didn’t go unnoticed.

“You can come closer if you want, love, so that you don’t have to eat off the ground.”

A pang of jealousy surged through him, because the blonde was so much more refined than himself; so much more _human_. In every aspect, the other boy was more human. From the way he walked to the gleam in his eyes and the smoothness of his voice. Yoongi was always close to the ground, his eyes sharp and calculating like the animals he was, while his voice was rough, carrying a natural growl. He couldn’t remember how it was to be fully human, if he ever had been anything close to it. There were only a few memories of something akin to trying, before and after the banishment, but he quickly found it much easier to survive when he let the feral part of him get a good grip on the steering wheel. He looked at the blonde with calculating eyes, their gazes locking for a long moment - gold and green, embers and grass - while the fire continued its entancing dance on the sideline.

“I’m good over here, thanks.” Yoongi reached with long fingers for the new piece of food in front of him, feeling the refreshing taste of apple clear his hazy mind.

“Suit yourself.”

Jimin seemed disinterested, but he kept throwing food, letting Yoongi stay and eat from a distance he felt safe. It warmed his heart, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that the basilisk still had ulterior motives. Yet, he kept accepting the food he was offered, feeling full and sated for the first time in years.

After the fire had died and the owls started to murmur, Jimin rose to his feet. It looked like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing a few times. Yoongi followed the small movements of his jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers - his eyes not letting the darkness blind him - before he watched the stranger fully turn and enter his cabin. It was too late to travel to his usual sleeping place, and Yoongi was too sleepy from all the food to move that far, so he used the remaining energy he had to climb the cabin to sleep on the roof. A few branches was located, one of them still sporting green leaves all over. He took that one, laying it on top of himself to shield him from sight, but also to keep him warm. The most important reason, however, was how he held onto it, grasping it tightly as he curled in on himself — because the nights were always so lonely.


End file.
